Ch.190Suppression (9)

“…What is this all about.”

Having left the holy scripture given to me by the Saint ten years ago in the burning palace, I returned through a secret passage only to hear something both horrifying and ridiculous.

Originally, I planned to quietly retrieve the scripture and escape again, but… I have no choice now.

I certainly don’t like sharing the Saint’s love, but if Ellen disappears, the Saint would be sad.

Above all, I feel a bit sorry for Ellen who’s been tormented by that madman.

“Grrrr…”

Thud—

The intruder blocking my view collapses to the floor with a foaming sound, clearing my vision.

It’s been a while since I used my sword, so I was slightly anxious, but thankfully it worked out.

Let’s see… about 50 people? That’s quite a lot.

“When did she get behind us?!”

“Kill her!!”

The intruders, who until just now were too stunned to properly grasp what had happened, immediately snap to attention upon discovering Jeanne with blood on her sword beyond their comrade’s corpse, emanating a menacing aura.

The intruders charge at Jeanne with weapons drawn, their attitude completely opposite to how they treated Ellen.

“…Tch.”

Their reaction is faster than I expected.

I thought they’d be confused for a few seconds, unable to properly assess the situation. My plan to take down a few more during that window has been slightly derailed.

As expected of those evil enough to invade the palace, they’re somewhat mentally disciplined.

Screech—

“…”

“—?!”

Due to the narrow corridor, the intruder can’t swing his sword sideways, so he strikes downward at Jeanne, but she naturally blocks the attack.

Of course, given the obvious difference in build and gender, the intruder who brought down his sword colors his face with astonishment, unable to believe the situation.

Looking into Jeanne’s cold eyes beyond the sword, the intruder feels both beauty and an indescribable pressure.

‘Ugh… it hurts.’

Unlike the intruder’s impression, Jeanne was actually in great pain inside.

In the past, she could have easily withstood this, but her strength has weakened too much.

When the angels were clearly visible, she could crush stones with her bare hands, but now that their images have become so faint, even this is difficult…

Slash—

“What—gah, guhk…!”

Feeling regret, Jeanne gives up the power struggle.

As Jeanne slightly releases her strength and steps back, the intruder momentarily loses his balance, leaning forward with his body and sword. Seizing the opportunity, Jeanne catches the enemy’s blade in her crossguard, pushes it aside, and slashes the exposed neck.

This swordsmanship is commonly used, and the intruders have trained to counter it, but Jeanne’s small stature combined with abnormally strong muscles for her size renders such training useless. It’s like batters who’ve practiced against right-handed pitchers finding themselves helpless against lefties.

“…!”

The intruders who were charging at Jeanne with menacing aura no longer do so.

As they’ve just witnessed, Jeanne isn’t someone who merely knows how to swing a sword, and the narrow corridor makes it impossible to surround and attack her from all sides.

The corridor’s narrowness prevents them from utilizing their numerical advantage, forcing them to face Jeanne with few people at a time with no guarantee of a quick victory—a situation the time-pressed intruders desperately want to avoid.

“This way!!”

“Others are coming. Is it alright to stay here?”

“Your Highness, we must achieve our greater purpose.”

“…Retreat.”

Eventually, the intruders decide not to confront Jeanne and retreat to find stairs leading upward.

Amidst the chaos, Louis had firmly gripped Ellen’s hand to take her along, but due to Ellen’s stubborn resistance, the approaching footsteps of the royal guards, and Jeanne slowly advancing, he ultimately gives up.

……….

“Ellen!!”

“Your Majesty…”

At first, I was delighted to hear that the royal guards who had infiltrated the second floor had rescued Ellen, but that joy instantly turned to anger upon meeting her.

Ellen has severe bruises on her hands and wrists, her clothes are tattered as if she’d been dragged somewhere, and her entire body is covered with abrasions.

“…I’m sorry.”

According to the royal guard who found Ellen alone and heard her story, Ellen resisted the intruders until the end, resulting in her current state.

Fortunately, the royal guards arrived in time, forcing the intruders to abandon Ellen and retreat, but if they had been even a little later, something terrible could have happened.

No, even if they had arrived earlier, if the intruders had become angry at Ellen’s resistance… Tch.

“What are you sorry for… I’m the one who was wrong for not staying hidden in my room as I should have.”

“No, I’m the one who created this situation. I should have wiped those vermin out earlier.”

Didn’t she flee from her hiding place because she was afraid of the fire? It would have been madness to stay quietly in a room when she might burn to death.

Ellen is not at fault. This happened only because I trusted the nobles too much and treated them too generously.

“Are there any important figures still inside?”

“No, Your Majesty. We’ve confirmed that all royal personnel, including Lady Chloe and Lady Jeanne, have safely evacuated. We’ve also secured the royal symbols such as the crown and scepter to prevent them from falling into the rebels’ hands.”

That’s a relief.

No need to show restraint in deploying firepower now.

“The promised ten minutes have passed, so preparations should be complete?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Begin.”

……….

“What is this…?”

The result of their breakthrough was utterly disappointing.

The king’s bedroom and dressing room they had targeted were empty, and not just those—the entire third floor was completely vacant. It was in stark contrast to the staircase packed with royal guards.

Literally, they had made a completely wasted effort.

‘Why, why…? If it was going to be like this, why did they defend the path to the third floor so desperately?’

It makes no sense to guard an empty place. There must be some other reason.

No, perhaps the king was definitely on the third floor but escaped down another staircase as soon as he confirmed our approach?

But even so, the complete absence of any presence doesn’t make sense. Even those annoying royal guards are nowhere to be found.

This suggests that no one has been on the third floor for quite some time—

“—Traitors, hear me!!”

“…Haha.”

At that moment, the voice of the cursed tyrant echoes from outside the palace, and hearing it, Louis lets out a self-mocking laugh as he roughly guesses how the situation has unfolded.

I was completely wrong.

The king wasn’t on the third floor; he wasn’t in the palace at all.

With such a resonant voice and confidence, all preparations must already be complete.

Well, I suppose he’ll at least demand our surrender—

“I am here, so come out now if you wish to kill me.”

“…”

Looking out the window with a resigned heart, Louis is left speechless.

Not only is the tyrant not demanding surrender, but he’s also much closer than expected. Close enough that one could easily throw an object out the window and reach him.

At that distance, even with soldiers in between… I could still reach the tyrant with my sword.

It wouldn’t be in vain to avenge my father’s life.

“Let’s go before the tyrant retreats in fear.”

Turning away from the window, Louis speaks just one sentence before heading toward the stairs leading down, and his guards silently follow.

They sense that they will surely die if they proceed, but as warriors, dying on the battlefield is natural, so they aren’t afraid. If they had feared death, they wouldn’t have participated in the palace invasion in the first place.

The guards’ minds are filled only with thoughts of how to end their final battle.

……….

“Your Majesty!!”

THUD!!

That night, Simon, his face flushed red, prostrates himself before me. He hits his head on the ground so hard that it makes a loud thudding sound.

Even though I am king, prostrating oneself is a slave’s etiquette, so even nobles who have sworn sincere loyalty don’t do it, but Simon seems unable to consider such things now.

After all, this catastrophe occurred because he led all the troops away.

“Enough, it’s not your fault. Raise your head.”

“But…!”

“Didn’t I say it’s not your fault?”

Simon has done nothing wrong.

He annihilated the many rebels in a short time and immediately returned upon receiving reports that Dijon was under attack—how could I blame him?

Unconscionable kings might shift blame onto their subordinates to preserve their authority and legitimacy, but I no longer need such concepts.

“I entrusted you with many troops and failed to recognize the treacherous intentions—it was my mistake, so don’t blame yourself. You’re bleeding. Here, wipe it with this.”

“Your Majesty…!”

I only need loyalty.

Legitimacy? Authority? Such things naturally follow when there is loyalty.

Those who no longer show loyalty to me will no longer be considered citizens of this country.